HeArt History
by Goddess Bless
Summary: Penelope is angry over Kevin's betrayal. She fears that she will never find another guy who would take her on her own terms. When a nasty slip in a coffee shop leads to potential romance, how will this technical analyst take to the unknown. Who is the green eyed art historian, and why can she not stop thinking about him? HP/PG Somewhat epilogue compliant, but not really.
1. A Spill at Starbucks

A/N: Hey all! I am not dead, though my graduate program is surely trying to. And I'm at the point where I am now having to examine doctoral programs and so all hell is breaking loose in my mind. This writing is not beta'd I was just so tired of writing all this science-y stuff and doing research for this article publication and that one. For all of those out there who think that creative writing means that you are a great writer, you have obviously never had to try and write to be published in medical and science journals. It is a killer.

I am not done with any of my stories (unless previously noted in my profile). I just wanted to shoot off something quick and easy without having to put much thought behind it. I do have half finished chapters for basically everything still opened and unfinished. I am just absolutely swamped and am barely keeping my head above water. I will try to write more soon, for if I do not I will simply go insane from the never ending work.

I am not sure if I will be updating soon, as I will be out of the country starting Thursday and then I will be back and then pack up a week later for another conference (luckily on a short plane ride away). So, um. Cheers. This is just a dumb little plot bunny, that I am not sure will go anywhere.

* * *

Garcia was sure that she was going to hit the floor after slipping. More sure than how sure she was that she absolutely never wanted to see that back-stabbing Kevin Lynch ever again. He was still with that tart, Gina, which he had taken with him to JJ and Will's wedding.

All the thoughts of Kevin disappeared as her eyes locked on a pair of sparkling green that seemed absolutely impossible. Her vision widened and she realized that a man was holding her, rather impressively. Flustered, Garcia allowed herself to be lifted to her feet by the stranger. The coffee shop manager was chattering around them with apologies, however Garcia heard none of it.

"Excuse me." He's British, she thought to herself as he backed off to a reasonable distance.

"No," she began all nerves and no confidence. She blinked and reset herself. "I mean, thank you. That would have been a spilled Garcia on aisle three."

"To be fair, I don't believe that this place has aisles." His humor was tart and spicy and she liked it. She glanced down and saw that his pants were all but ruined with the contents of his coffee; the cup was empty on the ground.

"I destroyed your coffee." Garcia's voice was aghast. That was sacrilegious in her book.

The man, young with tanned skin that said Middle East somewhere in his ancestry, shrugged. "It is only coffee. I'll just replace it."

"I'll replace it." Garcia was firm and a smooth smile eased over his features. He held up his hands in surrender.

"I give."

A triumphant smile adorned her face and she led him back to the till. "Order." She commanded, feeling more natural in her dominant position.

He nodded and ordered, a soy non-fat pumpkin coffee half the cup being hot chocolate. She paid for the strange order and they waited off to the side for his drink. After a few minutes the barista called out, "Harry."

Funny, she hadn't heard him give them his name. "Harry." She said to him as they took seats in the plush armchairs by the fireplace.

"Harrison, actually." He smiled at her shyly before taking a sip of his drink and humming contently. "Harrison James Potter."

Garcia grinned at him, "Since we're doing full names mine is Penelope Anne Garcia."

Harry smiled back at her, "Penelope Anne. That has a nice ring to it."

"I am just thankful that my parents didn't come up with anything worse." Garcia said half jokingly whilst taking a sip of her own half-caf. double mint soy latte.

"There are much worse names out there- and I went to school with half of them." Harry's smile was bright and Garcia felt that his humor was infectious.

"Lay them on me, handsome." A blush lit prettily of his handsome features and Garcia, for a moment, thought that she had gone too far. Her fears were unfounded as he leaned back in the chair as if in thought.

"Well, there was Draco," she snorted, "oh, no. It gets much worse. So, where was I? Right, Draco, Pansy, Blaise, Ronald, Parvati, Luna, Padma, Millicent, Rowanda, Neville, Ginevra, Hermione."

"Stop, stop." Garcia couldn't contain her giggles, "Hermione? Did her parents read too much Shakespeare?"

Harry nodded, "She's actually one of my best friends, and yes, she parents most definitely did. The adults were worse- Severus, Hagrid, Mundungus, Sirius, Minerva."

"Please stop. You're making this up."

Harry shook his head and placed a hand to his chest as though offended, "I kid you not. How I came out with Harrison and survived, I will never know.

"Just by luck. And it was good that you did, or I would be in bad shape right now."

Harry blushed again- Garcia found that he blushed more than any single person she knew- even Reid.

They chatted and drank their coffees in a way that was more normal than any other part of Garcia's life. It was so simple and so pure that she was mournfully sad when JJ texted her wondering when or if ever she was returning from lunch.

"I'd like to do this again." She said after stoking up her courage as high as it could go."

Harry smiled and separated his cup, the recyclable parts from the non-recyclable ones and dropped them into the according bins. "I would really enjoy that. Dinner?"

Garcia paused, thinking back to her close call with death. "You aren't by any chance some angel of death who secretly is plotting to kill me?"

Harry stiffened with offence before relaxing and spreading his hands in the perfect image of good will. "Last time I checked, I had absolutely no intention of killing anyone, really. It's not my style. Least of all you."

It was Garcia's turn to blush. She took a moment to rifle around in her bag before producing a business card and scribbling her number on the back of it. "Call me sometime?"

"Oh, definitely." Harry's smile brightened her day and Garcia shook his outstretched hand, and even received a kiss on the cheek before meandering out of the shop in the direction headquarters. Her phone buzzed with a number she did not recognize.

"Garcia." She answered formally, you never knew who might be calling.

"Hey, Penelope, it is Harry from the coffee shop- I don't know if you remember me, but we had a great chat there."

Her cheeks ached from the size of the smile adorning her face. "Hm, I don't seem to remember a Harry, sorry."

"That's too bad, because I was going to invite you to supper tonight. Oh, well."

"I'd love to." Garcia responded quickly before she could talk herself out of it. She could practically hear his smile.

"Lovely. I know it is quite the ride, but how about you and I go to supper in D.C. I know the perfect place."

Garcia sounded dubious, "That is quite the hike."

"Drive to the Franconia-Springfield metro station and park. I'll meet you at the South Capital stop at 7:30 tonight."

"Will you really be there?"

"I am a man of my word, I'll be there as if by magic."

Garcia gave a smile at his declaration. "You've convinced me. I'll meet you at South Capital at 7:30."

"It's a date."

Something hot and heavy rushed through Garcia's veins and nearly knocked her off of her feet. A date. She had worried since Kevin that no other man would find her attractive. To, all at once, be caught off guard and swept off of her perch (literally) was amazing.

They said their goodbyes and clicked off the call and Garcia was left with a mission. The first was to go and search for this man in every database known to exist. If it all checked out, than she would call it an early night, something that she would never normally do, and go home to primp.

A date with a man who took her on her own terms and wasn't always trying to one up her on programming or software design. Kevin was nice, and she loved him- always would. But, maybe, just maybe, dating someone outside of the technical field would be nice for a change.

~Scene Break~

"It all checks out." Garcia murmured as she gazed at her screen. Harrison James Potter was born July 31st 1981 to Lord James of Potter and Lily of Potter nee' Lily Evans. His parents chose to have a home birth. His parents were, unfortunately, murdered by a local cell terrorist organization that targeted the family due to their relationship to the throne; James was 46th in line for the throne. The killer, or killers escaped before officials could arrive on the scene.

A mistake in the will and testament meant that Harrison went to live with his mother's sister and her husband rather than the several others listed on the document. It was a large scandal with several newspapers and other magazines producing articles on it, after the fact. When the will was corrected Harrison went to a private boarding school known for keeping the privacy of the families, she couldn't even find an accurate student roster. The only information on it was that the school was called, 'Hogwarts School for the Gifted and Academically Minded'.

Harrison graduated with full honors when he was 17 and went on to University at the University of Salzburg in Austria where he studied Kunstgeschichte or Art History. He received his masters in the same area at New York University and then a History of Art doctoral at the University of California at Berkeley. He was now one of the top researchers working for the Smithsonian System, despite his age. Copies of both his masters thesis and doctoral dissertation were available online.

He was currently working with the International Art and Preservation Coalition to preserve precious and ancient artwork in war zones, hence his presence near Quantico. "Quite the impressive man." She noted now going through his personal records.

He was hailed as a hero when his boarding school was attacking by the same terrorist organization that killed his parents. He had, according to all public record, killed, though it was assured multiple times that that was not the intended result, the leader of the organization. Most wanted him to go into politics and national security afterwards, however Harrison, seemingly, wanted nothing to do with war or violence and went the opposing route.

He was currently the primary guardian for one child, a godson, who was presently attending the same school that Harrison did. He also gave large sums of money, old family money she noted, to different organizations internationally that centered on orphans and especially children left orphaned by war or natural disaster.

"He's perfect." She murmured and closed out of his personal life. She saw that he had been married once, straight out of school, however that quickly ended. She felt satisfaction in that she was protecting herself against a future attack. However, on the other hand, Garcia felt horrible that she had just torn apart this genuinely great guy's internal life with no cause or case behind it.

Time would tell if that was the right decision, however now was the time to close up shop and head home to get ready.

* * *

I've always wanted to make Harry into this guy who just wanted to be away from all the drama and chaos and danger, etc of the wizarding world. Speaking from my degree perspective, there is no way that Harry would become (most likely) an auror due to his extreme and trigger-able childhood tramatic experiences, and also those from the prepubescent and subsequently young adult periods. Thus! Art Guy Harry!

I hope that you enjoyed this.


	2. Good Stuff Eatery

A/N: I am trying to produce all of these chapters in a certain time length. I don't know if that will be successful, but here is to hoping. I am meeting with the head of my program on Wednesday to see if my research article and lit review about cognitive neuro science will be used in an upcoming journal. I sure hope so. Here's to hoping- fingers crosses. And, here's to hoping that you will enjoy this chapter.

Again I do not edit my things. This is fanfiction- leave me be.

* * *

"So, where are we going?" Garcia asked after spotting Harry waiting for her at the top of the South Capital metro stop escalator.

He handed her a single rose- purple, she liked his style, and offered her his arm. "To only the best restaurant in all of DC."

Garcia grinned, but internally she was nervous. She wasn't sure if she had gone for the right look: not too prim, but not too shabby. A cream coloured sweater-dress with purple, gold, and red accents in her shoes, scarf, jewelry, and handbag. He on the other hand was wearing a simple fawn coloured button down and dark jeans.

They went right out of the station's landing area and then left onto Pennsylvania Ave. The walk was short and landed them in front of an absolutely packed restaurant with a line streaming out the door and down the sidewalk.

"Where are we?" She asked, having never been here before despite its central location.

"Good Stuff Eatery." Some kids raced by on their longboards despite the brick walkways in this part of town.

"So, what brought you here?" Garcia asked before stuttering and flashing her hands about, "And I mean here as in the United States and this area, not this business."

Harry's laughter was rich and Garcia instantly felt warm, warmer than an already heated DC summer night made her. "I came here to work for the Smithsonian Institute. I work in the division of art history. And I came here because it was an opportunity to work with one of the most respected research institutes in the world."

Garcia made an, 'o' form with her mouth at his declaration. "And what do you do, Miss Penelope?"

She blushed prettily, "I am a," she paused suddenly unsure of how her tech side would mesh with this artistic soul. So, she lied. "I am a web designer and digital graphics artist."

He nodded appreciatively and shoved his hands into his pockets as they ambled forward in the line. "I used to be absolute rubbish with computers until I got to University. My secondary primary and secondary education was not very technology heavy. We still used quills, often because that was tradition and that was how it was it be done. I figure myself to be a decent tinkerer of technology now." He pulled a hand out of his pocket, "I have a smart phone and everything."

"Smart phones are not all equal." Garcia replied instantly, provoking a conversation about the pros and cons of certain technology aspects and devices. Harry, it seemed, was an avid Mac user- unsurprising due to his profession. Their conversation abruptly ended upon reaching the turn and line up by the register. The restaurant itself did not look like much, downstairs was tiny with no room to sit or breathe. Upstairs sounded noisy and packed as well. The walls were painted brick and had various local pictures on them.

"What are you getting?" She asked whilst looking at the menu.

"A Sunnyside Burger and a Toasted Marshmallow Shake."

"Oh, that sounds good." Garcia replied slowly, mesmerized by the options.

Harry nodded, "The shakes are hand spun and absolutely, sinfully, delicious. A diet's worst nightmare."

Garcia grinned up at him and folded the paper menu in half to shove in her purse. "Luckily I do not believe in diets or dieting."

"Good girl." Harry replied happily and they slid forward in line. "Girls that diet just gain the weight back after they finish. Life style changes, changing your life, as a whole for the better- not just for bikini season, now that's the key."

Garcia blushed at the idea of Harry seeing her in a bikini. He seemed like a man who could appreciate some curves- why else would he be out with her.

"So, you think I should do it?"

"The shake? Absolutely, you haven't lived until you've had one."

"And the burger?" She questioned staring up at the board.

"I always go for the Spike's Sunnyside Burger, but that is just me."

"I think I'll go for the Blazin' Barn Burger." Garcia replied mind settling on the exotic burger."

"Adventurous, I like this. Mint, Cilantro, and picked daikon, and spicy mayo? You must know how to party."

"Oh, my handsome man. I created how to party." Garcia made the flirtatious movement of tracing her a single finger down the line of buttons on his chest before turning away and ordering her meal.

"For here or to go?"

"To go." Both Harry and Garcia responded at once. They shared a pleased smile that came with people who had similar thinking styles.

They finished their ordering and Harry paid despite Garcia's protests ("You bought me coffee." "Only after I destroyed your first one!").

After being handed a square buzzer the two stood off to the side and watched the chaos continue. "Where are we going to eat?" Garcia asked before realizing that Harry couldn't hear her over the din of the rooms. She tapped him on the shoulder and he leaned down to listen.

"Where are we going to eat?" She repeated loudly enough that Harry stuck his finger in his ear and wiggled it around to help with the feeling.

"The walk to the mall isn't too bad from here. Or we could go back on the metro and take it to the Smithsonian stop."

"Metro." Garcia replied and gestured down to her brown knee high boots. "These boots were not made for walking."

Harry grinned at her and nodded as their buzzer went off and the two grabbed their respective bags.

A short walk later found themselves at the South Capital stop and they stepped as one onto the descending escalator.

"Have you tried your shake yet?" Harry asked after finishing a slurp of his.

Garcia shook her head, "I'm nervous."

"I'd be nervous too if I was about to consume more than half of your daily allotted calories." He paused for dramatic effect and then held up his own shake. "Oh, wait- that's right. I already started on mine." He grinned up at her, for he was now on a lower step. Holding up his plastic shake container he grinned wider and offered his to clink, "Prost."

She repeated the foreign word and clinked her drink against his and then lifted the straw to her lips. A hand on her elbow stopped her. Harry made a tsking sound and shook his head mournfully.

"No, no, no. When you salute like that you must make eye contact." He nodded for emphasis and reraised his milkshake. "Prost."

Garcia firmly made eye contact. "Prost." She drank and felt the headache that had appeared in her mind decrease. The taste was sweet- almost too much to bear and yet also completely and utterly delicious in a marshmallowy way that she never knew possible. It was vanilla and chocolate and roasted marshmallows all rolled into one godly creation. She took a deeper sip and then they were at the turnstiles.

Without missing a beat, or a sip, both Harry and Garcia pulled out their passes and swiped them. Harry's was firmly kept in his wallet, and Garcia had kept hers in her 'bra pocket' for just such a reason.

It wasn't until they were on the metro, where rules strictly prohibited eating, that they ceased from drinking their milkshakes.

"Good Stuff Eatery," Garcia murmured staring at her cup. "Where have you been all my life?"

Harry laughed and replied, "Georgetown, Capital Hill, and Crystal City?"

Garcia pulled a face and grimaced, "I was being facetious and I would never spend more time in Crystal City than driving through it." They laughed and continued to converse comfortably until reaching the Smithsonian stop and exiting the train. The stop brought them up near the Smithsonian Castle, Frear Gallery, and the Carousel. The two ambled along in the summer's heat before sinking into a bench that gave them a good view of both the Capital building and the Washington Monument.

"Do you enjoy DC?" Garcia asked as she unwrapped her grease soaked burger- Harry had been right, Good Stuff Eatery was not somewhere to go if you were watching your waist line. "I mean," She took a bite and moaned as he mouth exploded in spicy delicious flavour, "do you miss your home?"

Harry shrugged as though the topic didn't bother him. "Frankly I do not think of England often. Yes, I will eventually have to return there, and yes I do visit. However," he paused and took a first bite of his own burger with much the similar reaction, "I have committed myself to making this area my home, and I am quite enjoying it. In fact, as touristy as it sounds, I saw the booth where the Kennedy's got engaged."

Garcia took a sip of her magical milkshake. "Oh, that place in Georgetown?"

Harry nodded, "Coolest night ever."

Garcia didn't necessarily agree- however Harry seemed enthusiastic about it enough that he could be that happy for the both of them. Silence reigned over the couple for a while as they consumed their meal. For Garcia it was a new favourite and instant classic. Harry even let her try his burger- it was good, but nothing compared to her spicy paradise.

"How did you find this place?" She asked as they were wrapping up their trash.

Harry shrugged and tossed the garbage into a nearby receptacle. "I just asked around the interns on the hill where was the best and most economical food place in the area. I got several answers, but this one is my favourite. My other is this pizza place on P street by DuPont Circle. You go down into a basement and wham. A slice of pizza for 4.50, and that slice is a fourth of a pie. Can't beat it."

Garcia laughed, "You talk so passionately about everything. Doesn't it ever tire you?"

Harry shook his head, "If you aren't passionate and willing to put in 100% of yourself into everything, than nothing is worth it."

"Very philosophical of you."

Harry tipped an invisible hat, "I live to please."

They laughed and started to stroll down the mall, their shoes making scraping noises on the gravel. "Before I moved here," Garcia started, "I never knew that this," she kicked the tan rocks, "was gravel."

Harry nodded. "Before I moved here I didn't realize how freaking big the mall was. Still don't, really."

"Oh, look." Garcia paused as she saw a swarm of people around the doors of the Natural History building. "They must be having an event tonight."

Harry grabbed her hand and started tugging her across the grass towards the huge building. "Than let's go. The night is young and so are we." Garcia laughed and let him take her towards the crowd. This was much different than any date that she had been on. It was so honest, pure, and spontaneous. Harry had a player's ability in timing and dramatic effect. It barely took him two seconds before all her stress and worries melted away. It was more than just charm and smile, Harry was one of those rare souls that seemed untouched by time and unravaged by distress- despite what his history had shown.

She felt bad about her fib, her lie. However, she was feeling unsure about that part of her life right now. She loved the BAU, and didn't intend to leave. However, there was no harm in wondering what life would be like if she had become a graphic designer or an artist. What would life be like for her without being witness to all the gore and travesties that they tried so hard to hide from the general public? Would Harry be disgusted in what she really did? Her mind said that he would accept her for everything she was, wasn't, and would ever be. Her heart, however, worried about being alone and not singing with another. The spark of happiness, something that existed with Kevin, but was already blooming under Harry after only a half of a date. She was in trouble.

* * *

Oh no! Garcia what have you done! I feel as though i am hitting the mark with her character. She acts all forward and confident when she actually lacked it in a large way. As Derek Morgan pointed out in an episode she wears her individuality like a shield. I made her more vulnerable in this chapter by calming down her outfit slightly. Don't worry- the crazy isn't gone. I just wanted to show and develop this relationship with the reader and the story that proved her vulnerability and how easily it is for her to feel unsure and for her to become hurt.


	3. Romeo and Juliet

Hello all! So, good news. I have updated. More good news, my journal article is being published once I make the necessary corrections. Yaaay! Now I just need to find a summer internship. For all of those who thought that internships stopped with secondary school and undergrad- you're wrong. And they get even more competitive. More good news! I made it back from Canada safely!

Also. Do not ask for longer chapters. It just makes me angry. Again, and I know I will have to repeat this multiple times. I am in a double masters degree program. I am looking into doctoral programs. I am also conducting research of my own. I am doing nanorimo. I have a graduate assistantship, and I am the vice-president of a few graduate student organizations.

I produce what I can, when I can, and how I can. Please do not try to make me feel bad for not writing enough. I'd love to see you keep my schedule and find time to write.

Sorry about being a huge tool, but getting reviews that don't say anything but, "OMG I LUV IT!111! RITE MRE!" Kind of get to me.

* * *

Summer was coming to an end and Harry and Garcia had moved past innocent museum visits to a most serious and sensual level of their relationship. She had yet to inform him of her occupation, Harry had yet to inform her of his wizarding past. Their relationship stayed between the two of them and their shared interests, and that was how the couple liked it.

Garcia was healing, however not all the way to where she was ready to 100% commit herself to a relationship. Harry, on the other hand, was crashing very hard indeed. He was utterly consumed, like a moth to flame, by this beauty who mystified and delighted him so often. She was beautiful.

"You are beautiful, do you know that?" Harry's words were as soft as his hands as he ran them through Garcia's hair. Their sixth subsequent date had ended with the two adults lying naked in his bed, much like the third, fourth, and fifth dates had.

Garcia made a non-committed noise before ducking her head, "I'm alright."

Harry tucked a hand under her chin and brought her head upwards. "Never duck your head or be self conscious. You are beautiful. I only have eyes for you."

"Serious words." Garcia said playfully yet scared.

"I'm serious about you." Harry leaned down for a kiss, but Garcia was already out of his bed and getting dressed in an instant. She made her goodbyes despite his protest and left before he had even time to pull on his undershorts was halfway through his modest living room.

"Should I chase you?" Harry asked desperately having made his way to the doorjamb that marked the small entrance way.

Garcia paused with her hand on the door handle. Her heart twisted for more than one reason. How many guys assumed that every time a girl ran away or stormed off that she wanted to be chased? He was respecting her space- something that was one of those sexy attributes to him that made her believe that he was not the typical hegemonic male. He cared about her thoughts and feelings more than he cared about he need to assert his dominance over her by chasing her down.

"Not tonight."

Harry nodded as the door closed behind her and he slumped down to the floor in his jeans. Letting her go was difficult, however if she needed space, she needed space and he had to respect that. He knew that she had been in a long-term relationship before and his statement obviously scared her. Who knew if she was even ready to commit herself to another person? Harry thumped his head against the wood behind him.

"Stupid."

"Stupid." Garcia muttered to herself as she sat on the metro. She had gone and led on this wonderfully fantastic man who had just declared he was serious about her, when she wasn't exactly sure what she wanted.

He wasn't perfect. He kept his place relatively messy, he didn't know much about pop culture, he had this awkward habit of always rubbing his forehead when stressed, and he always made them get undressed in the dark. The last part made her wonder what he was hiding- or if he didn't want to see her. But, then again, she thought, she had made it a point to traipse around naked once or twice with the lights on and knew his eyes had watched her hungrily.

She drove back home once having made it safely to her stop and took the rest of the night to think.

It was the next day in her office that a bouquet of flowers was delivered. There was a note and Garcia opened it with shaking fingers. It was heavy parchment. She unfolded it once, and then twice before finally one more time and she gasped. It was a painting of her, she was looking out the window of the coffee shop with the most tender and expressive look on her face that she never knew could be captured especially in a painting.

She flipped it over looking desperately for a note. She found one in the very bottom corner scrawled in the hasty and messy handwriting that Garcia had come to associate with Harry. "True tenderness is often only seen when no one is looking. Your inner and outer beauty is a jewel."

She sat back and read and reread the inscription until the message seem to burn in her mind and in her heart. Out of the corner of her eye she took in the flowers. Turning her head she took in the gift more fully. They were closed buds- all of them. But, there were hundreds of small buds. When it bloomed, she had no doubt that it would be beautiful and she bet that was what Harry had planned for- the hidden beauty that only comes out with tenderness, patience, and forgiveness.

Her cellphone rang and she didn't even bother to check the id. "You beautiful man." Her voice was breathless.

"Did my heart love till now? forswear it, sight! For I never saw true beauty till this night."

"Harry." Garcia's heart clenched. They had been on six dates. They weren't exactly spring chickens, the time had come for her to settle down. She was so afraid with Kevin, that things would change and yet with Harry. He was timeless and sweet, and devoted in ways that wasn't the simpering and following puppy dog.

"Come outside, if only for a moment."

Garcia did not need to be told twice. She left as though in a dream, still clutching the painting tightly to her chest. There he was waiting for her, nicely dressed and washed and cleaned- something that was a rarity with Kevin. He approached her and brought the gentlest hand to her waist and another to her face. Garcia had never felt so safe and so cared for, like she was the finest porcelain doll.

"If I profane with my unworthiest hand. This holy shrine, the gentle fine is this: My lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand. To smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss."

Harry pressed his lips to hers ever so softly, yet still filled with passion in a way that Garcia didn't know manageable. He pulled back, "I apologize for frightening you last night."

"I'm sorry for running away." Garcia met his eyes firmly with her own and held them. "I am not sure if I am ready for the serious you are offering."

Harry smiled at her in a way that made her insides melt. "Then I will be serious and waiting with and for you for all my days. I am a man who can wait, and I will."

"You will?" Her heart clenched painfully, this wasn't fair to him. He deserved a person who loved him right now; she should just stop this now.

"Stop that thought process." Harry tapped her on the nose with a finger. "This is my choice and mine alone. You needn't concern yourself with any responsibility on this part. I am my own person, and I make my own decisions. You are worth the wait in every way possible. If that means that I have to wait until tomorrow, the next day, the next month, or even the next year I will be here." He flashed a grin at her that lit his face up in a way that seemed magical. "Just promise me you won't make me wait forever."

Garcia smiled. "Forever, I think I can manage that." She frowned, "I just need some time. I'm damaged goods right now."

"And I have a hero complex, so consider me an expert in handling damaged goods- call me the TSA if you'd like."

"Titty- Search-Association?" Garcia asked wickedly, needing something to break the severity of the conversation, The unbalanced look that Harry's face assumed was enough to make her laugh aloud.

"You really do live on the internet."

Garcia's laugh stopped for a moment and she squared Harry with a look. "You know where I work."

Harry nodded good naturedly, "I know where you work."

"And you never informed me that you knew."

Harry nodded, "I considered it a polite lie between more-than-friends."

She shoved him in the chest, though not with the hand that held her precious painting. "How did you find out?"

Harry's smile grew devious. "You were intoxicated and you upended your purse on my bed looking for your lipstick, I believe."

Garcia's face flushed a heavy red, "and you saw my work pass."

Harry nodded. "After that it was simply putting two and two together. A quick google search also found your name in several articles as part of a team called the 'BAU'. And they are?"

"Away." Garcia confirmed and Harry's shoulders slumped in relief. Her work friends were stuff of legends if the stories that she had told him were true. He was ready to wait for her forever, but not ready to take them all on, on their home turf. They laughed good-naturedly and the remaining tension eased out of the situation.

"You came all the way down for me?" Harry grinned and nodded.

"I didn't chase you last night to give you your space. It was fair game today."

She playfully shoved him lightly on the chest before cocking her head. "And now you must make the long journey back to your city because I am not yet done with work, and you sir." She looked down at her wristwatch, "have taken an extraordinarily long lunch break."

The boyish expression that crossed his face made Garcia laughed in earnest and she shoved him in the direction of the metro. "Go, you trouble maker."

Garcia watched him walk until she could no longer see him and made her way back to her desk. She sighed still feeling a high from the warm and fuzzy feeling that seeing Harry always left her with. Placing his painting off to the side to be hung later, Garcia got an idea.

Working quickly she hacked into the camera system of the metro and looked for her man. Ah, there he was, going into the men's room. She sat back and waited for him to come out. After ten minutes she became concerned and flicked into the camera that was just inside the door. It complied with the law- barely. It didn't show the bathroom stall or urinals, merely the sink, as a precautionary against terrorism.

He was nowhere to be seen. Concern nearly choking her now, Garcia made a call over to the safety police. Making like a concerned citizen she reported that a man was sick in the men's bathroom at the correct location. Flicking back out, Garcia watched as two guards entered the bathroom and exit a short time later with no one.

This was a mystery that Garcia did not like at all. She checked the camera's again from the start this time. Yes, that was Harry most definitely. And there was he going into the bathroom and no. She checked and rechecked the footage, including the camera that showed when he entered the bathroom. There!

Garcia's eyes widened. There, in front of her eyes, Harry vanished. She sat stunned in her chair. When her hands moved next they moved with precision and cause. That scene was deleted from the film and the camera was put on a loop for those few moments.

Harry would have to inform her how he did that, however she was not about to jump to crazy conclusions. Hopefully. Well, she would have a list or two, but would hear him out before running to the rest of the FBI.

She hoped that this could be answered.

She hoped.

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A/N: Sooo, what did you think of the chapter? When will the BAU come in? What about the magical world? Ouhhhhh. Cliffy-cliffy. We'll see ;). In the mean time, my American readers I urge you to go out and do your civil/civic duty and cast your vote. These elections are very important.

I, myself, am voting for Obama. As a woman, I encourage you to vote for him if you like women/ are a woman. And/or if you like/support/are LGBTQAAAIPetc. Even the Economist (kind of like Time Magazine) endorsed Obama over Romney, and that is saying something.

Okay, so there was my shameless political plug. P.S. I'm not even a democrat (I align most with the green party) however I am realistic in that it (for now) is truly a two party system.

Enjoy your day and I will update soon!

iBless!


	4. Adonis and Achillies

**A/N: Hey all! It has been forever! Long story short is that someone went into my office and stole my laptop from out of my bag, which was located underneath my desk. I lost absolutely everything, from my stories, to all my artwork, to my important data and research from my entire semester of national cross-institutional research that I had been doing about campus rape and sexual assault. This all happened on the last day of the last week of classes. I had to make a big presentation of my findings on that Monday, which gave me two days and some odd hours to work on that, create a new literature with all new materials, read the new materials (as well). This does not include my psychological developmental theory papers and finals. Graduate school is hard on its own, without someone jacking off my life source. It kind of blew my muse. However, here is this! And I am happy to say that it is longer than the most recent chapters have been, and I think that it is a pretty good one. I am not going to make any promises about updates, please don't constantly pester me.**

**With that being said, enjoy this. And also, I have been playing with a one-shot plot bunny in my head of Hermione/Morgan (obviously not attached to this story). What do you think?**

**PS. I really dislike Kevin.  
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The cool and crisp fall air wafted the scent of freshly trimmed grass and popcorn through the air. The mall was filled to bursting with a multitude of people that spanned races, age, socioeconomic statuses, and backgrounds. Kevin made his way through the crowd trying to catch a glimpse of Penelope once again. He had spied her here and was intrigued. She was wearing dark-wash jeans, a black and white polka dotted shirt with a cream coloured relatively see-through jacket over it. Her shoes were an outrageous teal colour that matched the three-strand of beads that hung from around her neck, however he could not deny that the outfit was simply just not Garcia like. It was tame, it was not loud, and overall it was largely more tasteful than what she usually wore. Thus, he was on a mission to find her, and examine- did he miss something about her outfit that screamed out for attention?

Desperately swooping around the last corner of stalls at the National Book Festival Kevin stopped short. Penelope was standing with one arm around a man's shoulders and the other arm bent and pressed to her own back with her fingers interlocked with his. Another hand was around her waist, presumably the man's. Kevin's blood boiled, whether or not they were still together, Penelope was his girl and that was something that everyone in their social circle knew and accepted. She even accepted it, or so he thought. Feeling the strength of anger flood him, Kevin pushed up the sleeves of his wrinkled and ink-stained button down and went to stride forward. A group of students passed in between the antagonist and his quarry and Kevin found himself once again loosing them to the crowd.

Penelope was humming merrily as she stepped out of the elevator. Today was the first day back from her magical week and a half vacation with Harry. Though he had still not explained his disappearing act, Penelope wasn't frightened by the mysteriousness of his trick. The ability to disappear, or whatever he did, was just another part of Harry. On her way into the office, Penelope her Black Adonis, and the rest of her team, their morning coffee she had decided to surprise them with. Speaking of her Black Adonis, he was just at the glass doors and was waiting with a smile for her.

"Someone looks exceedingly happy today." Penelope winked at him.

"It is always a great day to begin it with you, hot stuff." Derek smile widened at her words and he followed Penelope as she dropped off coffees on the respective desks of her teammates. In a smooth, if not practiced, motion she also pressed two coffees into the hands of Rossi as he passed by on his way through the bullpen and up to Hotch's office. Penelope shot Derek a final wink and a firm rear-end pat before heading down to her den to begin her day's work.

Prentiss and Morgan exchanged a look of amusement. Prentiss had been visiting for a week so far, and had another week to go before heading back to England. Though her trip had been a surprise, Prentiss had been surprised to find that Garcia had not alerted the team when Prentiss had purchased the impromptu tickets. When the team had informed her that Garcia had finally taken a much needed and longed for vacation, Prentiss had been simply, shocked.

"She seems really,"

"Happy." Morgan finished Prentiss' statement before they were nearly barreled over by a frantic looking Kevin.

"Have you seen Penelope?" His clothes looked more unkempt than usual, his hair was as though something- maybe a rat- had died in it, and the smell was just awful.

"Ya, man. But more importantly what happened to you?" Morgan looked at the other man as though he had grown another head. Prentiss was using all of her will not to pinch her nose against the stench.

"When was the last time you showered, Kevin?" She asked, not unkindly.

"Penelope." Kevin's eyes were feverish. "She's with someone new. Someone. I don't know who- but I saw them."

"Woah, woah there. Garcia is seeing someone?" Morgan put his hands up in order to slow the frazzled tech genius.

"I saw them." Kevin rounded on Morgan, and entered into the man's personal space. "They were at the National Book Festival. He was all over her Morgan. He was trying to possess her. She didn't like it."

"She seems fine now." Prentiss stepped in and put her hands on Kevin's shoulders, if only to get him out of Morgan's face. "I'm sure that there's some logical explanation for this. And, I doubt that Garcia would let herself be in a relationship that she wasn't happy with."

"Why don't you go home for the day." The speaker was Hotch, he and Rossi had come up from behind the trio to listen to the conversation. "I'll speak with your supervisor, you do not look well at all." He paused and Rossi took over.

"And you definitely need a change of clothes, and a shower."

Kevin looked down at himself as if only seeing or realizing his appearance for the first time. "Oh, my." He grabbed his shirt lightly and pulled it outwards, incidentally sending his own scent up through the opening of the shirt and into his mouth and nose. Kevin gagged slightly. "I think I will do that, thank you SSA Hotchner."

Hotch nodded and the four watched Kevin leave just as frantically out through the glass doors and to the elevator.

"That man is messed." Morgan said watching the retreating figure.

"That is an understatement." Rossi concluded before the group rounded on each other. That was how doctors Reid and Blake found them, having been in the kitchen.

"What's all the commotion?" Blake asked before spying the coffee on her desk. She went and grabbed the coffee and held it up to her face, ready to use it to mask her expressions at will, as was her personality. Reid, on the other hand spotted his coffee and let out a small noise of joy, it was from one of his favourite coffee houses, and Garcia- it must have been her- knew that. He grabbed his cup and joined the team in their circle.

"It seems that Garcia has found herself a new boyfriend." Spencer coughed into his coffee after taking a long drag on the delicious liquid.

"I take it you knew?" Rossi pinned a steely eye on the young doctor.

"I may have seen them around once, or twice." Reid looked down at his cup in slight apprehension, "or maybe more times than that."

"And you never told us?" Morgan's tone was incredulous.

"It wasn't my secret to tell!" Reid said in his defense, sounding largely more like a child than like a world-renowned genius.

"Enough." Hotch commanded, though nothing could hide the small smile that adorned their leader's face. "We all have work to do, leave personal business to personal time."

The group grumbled, but separated nonetheless. This did not stop Morgan from cornering Reid by the water bubbler at the first chance he got.

"Spill."

Spencer looked nervously up at his friend. On the one hand, he was betraying Garcia's unknowing trust, on the other hand, it had been absolutely killing him not talking about this relationship.

"They go to this art and hip person party that is held at the National Gallery of Art every Thursday night when we don't have a case. Mostly it's for singles, but they seem to enjoy it."

"And you know this how?" Morgan crossed his arms impatiently.

"I've frequented this get together, from time to time. I've also seen them in other places."

Morgan felt frustration brewing inside of him and ran his fingers over his scalp. "How long has this been going on?"

Reid shrugged, "At least a few months."

Morgan made a noise voicing his feelings. "Why wouldn't she tell me?"

"Maybe because she wants something of her own, that she doesn't have to share with the team." It was JJ and Morgan glared at her.

"But we're more than just a team, I'm her Adonis. She's my Baby Girl."

"And even your Baby Girl needs something that is all together separate and different from the FBI. Somewhere and somewhere with whom she doesn't have to think, or isn't reminded of her job every two seconds." The look that JJ was giving him was firm, and Morgan felt some shame.

His pride had been hurt, yes. And, he didn't tell Garcia about every steamy night he had. However, if this relationship had been going on for months? His feelings were also hurt, he though that she had placed more trust in him.

"Do you think that she ever intends to tell us?" There was raw emotion in his voice and Morgan winced at. Letting that much hang out was never, ever good.

JJ's face softened, "I know that she will tell us. But, for now she needs this safe space. Let her have it." With that she was gone. Morgan and Reid were left standing, trying not to look at one another.

"So." Reid began.

"Thursday night, are you sure?" Morgan asked locking eyes with the taller man.

"Absolutely." Reid nodded, looking slightly affronted at the doubt that Morgan had just displayed in Reid's facts.

Morgan grinned. "Well, then. Get your singles clothes out Reid, I believe that we're going to a mixer Thursday night. I'm in the mood for some art."

Oh, this was never going to be good. Reid thought watching Morgan's retreating back.

Tuesday found Harry in Penelope's bed, tracing his fingers in swirling patterns across her bare back. He placed an open mouth kiss on her shoulder. It had been a while since their fight, and a while since his declaration. He wasn't going to try anything like that again soon, however he made sure that Penelope knew that she was always on his mind. Mostly it was through small romantic gestures, flowers, a small love note tucked into her daily planner, a new series of extravagant pens. He never, however, let it become over bearing, and he never did it enough that the gestures ever became too normal and commonplace.

Penelope looked up at him. "Why would you choose me? I'm not exactly gorgeous." She held a finger to his lips with a tisking noise, "I am not a hundred and twenty pounds Mister Potter. I am being a realist here."

Harry shook his head, "Truly, and I am being completely sincere. Weight doesn't perturb me much. I'll have you know that some of the most beautiful paintings in the world are of larger women, because before this wretched time of television and shallowness, a slightly plumper girl was the way to achieve real beauty. As an artist I stand by that." He grasped onto her sides and pulled her flush against him, Penelope could not deny that physical sign of his attraction to her, "I would much rather draw a million paintings of you nude, than any other woman. They are so pointy and bony; I often have to sketch their ribs, because they think it is beautiful. You, my dear, are buxom and beautiful, and I would not ask you to loose any weight, that you yourself would not want to loose first."

"So, if I were to loose weight, you would be happier?"

Harry laughed and tapped her on the nose, "Stop looking for arguments and attention. I said I would support you in your want. Your body is your body. I will always find it attractive. I would be hard pressed not to with your personality. Your love of life in tangible." He placed a sensual kiss on her mouth that let her panting and wanting for more, "That is more than enough attraction factor for me. All your perfect curves at just icing on the cake."

They kissed again and again. Before they became too heated Harry checked, "I just wanted to make sure that we're going to the mixer on Thursday, right? I told the Weissklein's that we would be there."

Penelope nodded, "Of course we will be, now come here." Harry nodded all the way until their lips met and his hand slid across her body. She was his, and he was about to show her just how his she was. Penelope gasped and Harry grinned, his sexy minx indeed.

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Short, but definitely sweet and it gets the plot moving. As you have read at the beginning, there was a reason to my long absence. I will try to update more constantly, but again don't pressure me.

I hope that you enjoyed this! Please review to keep me going and motivated!

iBless!


	5. Dancing at Bougival

**Hello Everyone. This is less times between updates, so cheers. I intended to update sooner, however time got away from me. In good news I've been working with literary agents on my new manuscript, and hopefully it will be picked up by a publisher. However, until then I am still lowly, poor graduate student who is slowly plunking away at life. I hope that you enjoy this chapter, as it has been so interesting to write. I love how this plot is developing and hope that you enjoy it as well!**

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"Oh, look at it, Harry." Penelope leaned back against her man with utter contentedness. They were standing before a piece of art that was on loan to the institute.

"I know." Harry could not keep the smile from adorning his face. This was his favourite piece. Renior's Dance at Bougival. Though he knew that Renior had chosen everything that the actors were doing from their clothes, to the placement of their hands and the curvature of their smiles. Something in that painting still felt so real, and so magical it stopped his heart momentarily.

"Your drinks." Harry and Penelope turned and smiled at their companions. Ibsen and Marlis Weissklein were good friends of Harry's. Harry had gone to university with Ibsen, and then had gotten to know his rather excitable wife through him. They both now worked here in DC, Ibsen as a minor foreign dignitary, and Marlis as a German instructor and historian at American University.

"What do you think of it?" Harry asked of his two friends before the four of them fell into heavy conversation of those who spent their time admiring art.

"That's him?" Reid nodded and Morgan a frown graced Morgan's features. The man didn't look like much, very thin and almost girl-like. He could see muscle, even from this distance due to how the man's shirt pulled against his form. Right now he was gesturing with his glass in the direction of the painting the four were admiring. They seemed to be in a heated argument, more the two men, leaving the two women to watch in clear amusement.

Penelope looked radiant in her bright red curve hugging dress with large black belt and gold belt buckle. Her jewelry was reduced to subtle black beads around her neck and a large red-gemmed ring on of her fingers. The other woman was quite fetching, if a bit too skinny. She was tall, extremely so, towering over Garcia and her date. Short hair light brown hair, slinky black top, dark skinny jeans, and boots played up her body in the right ways, making up for a lack of bust line. She drew eyes from around the room, Garcia's partner, Morgan noted, glanced at the woman politely, but never extensively.

"Are you two really here to spy?" Rossi was behind them in an instant with a glass of scotch in hand.

"I doubt you came out all this way to look at some art pieces." Morgan shot back unaffected.

Rossi shrugged and sipped his drink.

Something that one of the group said brought out a peel of laughter and Morgan watched as Garcia told a story with large arm moments and large facial expressions. At the end of it her date pulled her a little closer and planted a loving kiss on the cheek. Morgan allowed himself a smile, this looked good- promising even. He risked a glance around the room.

Someone other than Morgan was watching the merry foursome and the smile that was once there melted. The man's close had been nicer once, however hard times showed in strained pieces of fabric and slightly faded areas. His hair, bleach blonde, was disarrayed and unkempt, as though a nervous hand kept running through it and pulling it. He stared at the group with a fevered look that went beyond any description that Morgan could think of other than crazy.

When the two strangers walked over to exam a different painting, and Garcia and her partner stayed at the same one Morgan moved forward. Reid caught his arm.

"No, you said that we were just coming here to observe. You promised me you wouldn't confront."

"I'm not doing this for no reason, Reid." Morgan tried to shrug off the offending appendage, however he found that he couldn't. "Look over my right shoulder and towards the hall that exits onto that courtyard." Reid and Rossi did as obliged and at once noticed the out-of-place man.

"I see. Trouble." Was all Rossi said before Reid relented his grip and allowed Morgan to surge forward towards the couple.

"Garcia."

Garcia gasped and spun. "Morgan! I can explain." She nervously moved in front of Harry. "I was going to tell you, I was."

"Garcia."

"I was just nervous about what you would say, and also nervous about everyone finding out- with Kevin being how he is and-"

"Garcia."

Garcia kept speaking until a hand lay gently across her lips.

"They get the point, Penelope." The man's gentle voice surprised them. Though it was soft and gentle, there was an underlying power and the group of profilers could sense that he was used to being listened to. He glanced up at them and for a moment the three men forgot what they had come over to talk about. His eyes were mesmerizing, the most intense and powerful green that any of them had ever witnessed on a person shown through glasses and sharp and intelligent eyes.

"I'm Harry, Penelope's romantic partner. Though, I think that you came over here for something more urgent than our introduction."

Morgan snapped out of his daze at those words. He leaned in close and shook Harry's hand as it was extended so that his mouth was masked by Harry's mutual lean. "Over my left shoulder is a man that has been staring at your group. He has made no move to confront you, however he does not seem to fit in here."

Though Morgan could not see it, Reid and Rossi watched as Harry's gaze travel lazily around the room as if looking for another good painting and finding nothing of interest. They leaned back and released hands.

"Please, get Penelope out of here." Harry's voice maintained that pleasant and cool tone that it always had. He leaned over and kissed Penelope soundly as she moved to protest. "Please, dear. I am unsure of this man's intensions. As I work here, it is far easier for me to sneak away through the buildings. I would feel much better if you left with your coworkers, it would put my mind at ease." Harry looked and held her eyes with his and her hands with his. It was as though they were having a silent conversation before Penelope relented.

"Toasted Marshmallow?" Penelope asked in a tone that was straining for normalcy and falling more into nervousness.

Harry's face broke into a smile. "Of course. And Four Weddings." Penelope nodded. In a louder voice he said, "It was so great meeting the three of you. I have to say, it relieves me that she doesn't have to travel all the way home alone." He gave her a final kiss. And shook hands amiably with the three men.

"You should come with us." Rossi told him quietly whilst shaking Harry's hand.

Harry smiled at him, "We have no idea what this man is after. Penelope is the more likely target due to her job. I am but a lowly art historian- hardly dangerous. He'll most likely leave me be and follow you." Rossi nodded and Harry moved to shake hands with Reid.

"I know that you might feel like the less physically capable person out of this group, but I rely on you more than them." Reid's look startled him.

"Why?"

"Because you remind me, of me. And, because of that I know that you will do anything to protect Penelope, not that that others wouldn't. But I feel better knowing that someone similarly minded will be with her."

Reid nodded and they all split with big smiles and waves to Harry as he continued to browse the art. Reid, Rossi, and Morgan got as far as the Museum of Natural History before leaving the group under protest to go back and watch for Harry's safety. Not only was he an innocent, but he was also the person who was making Penelope happy. That last reason alone was enough to warrant Morgan's protection.

Morgan slid back into the party behind a group of individuals and made his way through side galleries until he came up in the shadows by the man who had put a wrench in the night's proceedings. Morgan watched in surprised as Harry continued to browse through paintings before finally reaching the man. They stood close enough to talk, but not close enough to be deemed together. They examined a statue nearby.

"What are you doing here?" Harry asked in a much different tone than what he used earlier.

"That's nice, Scarhead. I come all the way here to warn you, and you go and act ungrateful." The words were supposed to sound strong, however they came out too fast and too jerky to have much power behind them. He twitched like a junky.

Harry glanced sideways at the man as if fully seeing him for the first time. "Malfoy-"

"Sh!" Malfoy's tone was urgent. "No names, no one must ever know that I was here."

Harry nodded his consent. "Alright, no names." There was silence. "How long have they been torturing you?"

Morgan's heart faltered for a moment. The normalcy in the tone scared him.

"A f-few weeks." Malfoy stuttered with the effort.

Harry made a face. "You know you'll be killed for coming here and warning me. There's nothing I can do to stop it."

Malfoy shrugged, "I'm dead either way. I can't stand up against the tortures any more."

Harry nodded as though they were discussing the rain, not Malfoy's impending death.

"How long have they been rising, again?"

Malfoy paused, "Six months. They don't yet know of your location, you're too good at covering your tracks."

"That's because I gave up everything. My fortune, my family's historic land, my titles, everything. I'm happy with my life here as a nobody. I'm building a life."

Malfoy chuckled, "Still such a dreamer, Potter. You will never have those things. Not whilst your body is still running through your veins."

"Do you want me to kill you?" The question was not that of anger. Harry was legitimately offering to kill this man. "I can make it quick and painless. Far better than when you go back a traitor."

Malfoy paused. "I have committed more than my fair share of crimes, Potter." He laughed weakly, "I always knew that you were better than all of us. Golden Boy Potter. Ready to lay down his life to save anyone else, no matter their deeds."

"You were but a child, Malfoy." Harry turned and looked at the man for the first time. "I'll never forget that you and your mother saved me during the war." He paused. "I've changed my mind, Malfoy." Again the man shushed him against names. "I will save you."

"Don't hold your breath."

Harry shook his head, "I have decided. And, I am anything if not a stubborn fool."

"You don't have the skill anymore, you've given up everything to become this, this," Malfoy paused, "this painter. I saw you with that girl. You love her."

"I do. And I would not be able to look myself, or her, in the face ever again if I knowingly left you to die.

"I don't want to be saved, Potter." Malfoy's tone was tired. "I am tired, of struggling, and I am tired of fighting. You made your choice a decade ago. You cut all ties, you got out."

"Not out enough, apparently."

"Come off it. You always knew that there was risk. You were the boy-who-lived. The boy who faced and overcame thousands upon thousands of odds. Don't act like you never thought it would catch up with you."

"No, but I had hoped. Being born into this mess. People wanting me dead for nothing more than my family tree."

"Welcome to the nobility class, Potter."

The two made a face at each other.

"How long until they find me?"

Malfor shrugged. "That, I cannot tell you. They have no idea where you are, or even where to start looking. You did the completely unexpected. Leaving a dream of law enforcement behind to study art."

"I was tired of death. I wanted to only live with beauty for the rest of my life."

"They killed the Weasley Girl."

Morgan noted Harry's sharp intake of breath and marked silence.

"Did, " he paused, "did she suffer much?"

"Well, what I really should say was that they kidnapped her and tortured her. She killed herself. I supposed she didn't want to give them the satisfaction of killing her. I thought you didn't care about her."

"She may have cheated on me, but she still was my wife."

"Of an ill-advised and thankfully short marriage."

"That you destroyed."

Malfoy nodded and in a small voice replied, "that I destroyed." He paused and cleared his throat. "I suppose that they were looking for information on you."

Harry snorted. "After the marriage going down in flames due to her infidelity with you, I doubt it. They were most likely trying to crack you."

Malfoy was silent. "It worked."

Harry brought out a hand to place on the other man's shoulder, but let it fall before ever placing it.

"I never checked to see how the relationship ended, if it?" He left the question hanging.

"We broke it off after a few months. Publically, at least. We knew the risks of association."

Harry's tone was more than angry. "How long have people been fighting and dying in my name?"

"They never stopped, Potter. You might have run, you might have left, but none of the others had the luxury of it. Face it, you saved the world and then left your friends to die." Harry's hand clenched and unclenched in a motion that clearly was staving off a blow to Malfoy's face. Finally, he leased a limp hand.

"I was just tired of having to save everyone. I thought once I had finished, I could move on."

"Heroes never get to move on, Harry." Malfoy used Harry's first name, for the first time. "Heroes will live forever in their triumphs and burn forever in their failures."

They were silent for a long time. "I will have to go back."

Malfoy nodded, "I know."

"There's a good chance I might die this time."

Malfoy snorted. "The day that someone can actually murder you and rid me of your stupidity, is the day I start giving out medals." Harry shoved him on the shoulder good-naturedly.

"I'm going to have to get in touch with the Ministry. I want a full time guard here working. Maybe, if I can convince Penelope, I can move her to a safe house until this all blows over."

"And if you really do die? No house will be safe for her, nor anywhere in the world."

Harry ran a frustrated hand through his hair. "If I had known this was happening, I would have never started this relationship."

"Never, Potter?" A smile schemed across Malfoy's pale and drawn lips. "Never felt the true love and affection of another person, the one thing that you've always desired? I truly doubt that."

Harry tilted his head to the side. "I never should have left the UK. Not until I had brought every one of those bastards to justice."

Malfoy nodded. "That's true. But, that is in the past and there's nothing you can do about that now. The only thing that you can do at the present is to protect your girlfriend, and then finish the job you started."

Harry's shoulders slumped for a moment before straightening and pulling taunt. "I will save you, Malfoy."

Malfoy blew off his comment with a twiddle of his fingers as he turned and walked away.

This gave Morgan a lot to think about. There were many variables that came to mind, gangs or mobs being the first. There was something, however, that seemed too pure about Harry for him to be involved in that. From what Morgan had gathered, Harry was from the nobility class. Maybe this was a class war? Or a threat to the throne? Morgan slipped away back to the front hall and then made his way back through 'looking' for Harry again.

He spotted the man once again looking at the painting he had first spotted the man at. He came up to stand beside Harry and Harry spared him a glance.

"Renior is one of my favourite artists. His control, but also his freedom fascinates me. He seems to capture so much, with so little effort."

"Where did that man go?" Morgan asked, seemingly like he had truly left.

Harry pulled at face. "Left, to follow you, I'm sure."

Morgan nodded and Harry glanced down at the watch on his left wrist.

"Come, I told Penelope we would meet her at our restaurant at 9."

Morgan started to follow him, "I didn't hear that."

Harry smiled at the taller, broader, and darker man. "Of course you did, just not in so many words. Toasted marshmallow is her favourite drink from the place, and, her favourite television show, Four Weddings, comes on at 9."

Morgan nodded, but otherwise stayed silent. He was unsure of what to do. It was obvious that Harry was in trouble, and Garcia was in danger. It was also obvious that Harry was going to do everything in his power to protect her. This would require some thought. And maybe a drink.

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**A/N: Let me know what you think of this plot development. Expected? Unexpected? Good, bad? I would like some feedback and also just anything else that you can think of. Alright that's enough from me. Office hours in the morning and I am already up past my bedtime.**

**Cheers**

**iBless!**


	6. Alcohol Knows No Good Men

**Hello and surprise! I bet you weren't expecting to see me so soon! I just have been feeling the need to write lately. If you like my writing here, you should also check out my blog. I just started it recently and will be updating it 3 to 4 times a week. I currently have two posts up and twenty more in drafts, so it is not one of those blogs that will drizzle out. School is going meh. I can't wait for it to end, I'm in count down mode. And then a month off, and then internship at an art school for the summer. I hope that you like this, and I guarantee that you will have not expected this chapter to end like it has.**

** The blog is madhatterandtea on wordpress.  
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** : / / madhatterandtea . wordpress **

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Harry clasped Penelope's hands in his and leaned in to plant a kiss on her wonderful lips. His lips met her cheek and he knew he was in trouble.

"I hate you." She murmured and pulled him into a deep hug.

Harry closed his eyes and held her, ignoring the looks he was getting from her coworkers. He thrust his fingers into her hair and breathed deeply. This was going to be the main reason why he would fight, and he would win. He would let nothing happen to Penelope. Nothing could ever happen to his little star.

He released her and with a gentle coaxing hand, he got her to release him too. "Let's get you inside. You must be hungry."

Penelope nodded though she didn't actually feel hungry.

"I don't think that this is such a good idea. We should really get Penelope back to her apartment and get both of you out of sight." Rossi had been pushing since leaving the art night for this result, with no avail.

Morgan put a hand on his shoulder. "No, I think we're fine right now. Why don't we get something to eat? After all, it is Baby Girl's favourite restaurant."

The others looked at Morgan, but eventually submitted to his will and they entered the restaurant. Once their food was ordered and accounted for the group went up stairs to the seating around and Harry bustled them towards the back corner where a large round table sat and it was slightly separated from the other areas by a lower partition wall.

Lovingly, Harry grasped Penelope's hand and helped her around the edge of the table until she sat firmly in the corner with him seated next to her. The other agents took seats and the table was filled with a stony silence until Reid spoke.

"Hey, this is actually quite good!" He was looking down at his burger in surprise whilst chewing his food. He had gotten the Michelle burger, named after, one could assume, Michelle Obama. The tender silence was broken by laughter, though it was clear that the tension was still there.

Rossi made a similar remark of surprise, having gotten the Blazin' Barn at Garcia's suggestion. Morgan stayed silent, watching Harry throughout the meal. He was charming, putting the table at ease and slowing working each of the agents into a state of calm depending on the individual nature of the men.

It was as good as any of the profilers could have done it, and had Morgan not been watching with such care, he would have never noticed. Harry caught Morgan's eye and smiled widely at him, looking for all the world as the carefree art-hipster that he played himself off as. Morgan couldn't help the smile that was returned from his traitorous lips.

He couldn't find it within himself to dislike the youth, and turned his watching into passive mode. He would still watch and document for later analysis, but for now he would enjoy his burger- which he had to admit was quite good, and enjoy the time being spent here- the calm before the storm. Garcia shoved her milkshake under his nose for him to try and Morgan took it with a threat to not give it back.

~[HeArt History]~

"You really have to go?" Penelope was nearly in tears- nearly, she didn't cry too often and especially about people leaving on business trips.

Harry grinned at her good-naturedly and tucked the last of his assorted clothes into a suitcase. "There are some new Picasso paintings that have surfaced back in the UK. A little known fact was that he was a political artist, especially about wars and violence. I need to go see them. They might not even be real." He gathered her up into his arms and pecked her lightly on the lips.

Pulling back he winked at her, "I need to find out if their genuine, and besides- you've got Chocolate Thunder to keep you company while I'm gone."

Penelope sighed, but she knew how important Harry's research was to him and she wasn't about to stop him from doing something that seemed to integral to his very being. "Fine." She relented finally.

"However, you need to bring me back something foreign and expensive. Understand?"

Harry smile was so rich and genuine that Penelope's chest tightened in a way that nothing had ever made it happen before. He brushed their foreheads together and held her as though they had all the time in the world, and that she was all he ever needed. With the love and tender care of someone whose heart held no boundaries, Harry removed her clothing piece-by-piece and paid homage to each and every part of her body that he could find. Not a single inch was left untouched by the man and as they curled into bed together Penelope played her head on his chest with determination.

"I love you."

The silence in the room was deafening. The big invisible elephant that had been in their relationship for months was now out in the open. Penelope found herself being cradled like the finest porcelain doll, so gentle and so fragile.

"I will come back to you."

"I know." The firmness in Harry's voice warmed Penelope. His affirmation was sweet, though he was only going for a business trip.

"When I get back, I'm going to help and support you so that whatever your heart desires will be yours." He traced his fingers along her naked side and Penelope shivered. "When I was younger I had nothing, I had no one. I have you now."

Penelope's breath caught from the raw emotion and want that existed in Harry's voice and words.

"You and I will exist as long as we can manage it. When I get back, mark my words, I will ask you to marry me."

"I won't say, 'yes'." Penelope whispered into the darkness. He hugged her body tightly to his, pressing them together as though to meld them into one being.

"I know. But that won't stop me from asking. Every holiday, every special moment. And even in non-special moments. I will marry you Penelope Anne Garcia, destroyer of coffees. You will be mine." He paused, "and I mean that in the most non-possessive, crazy murderer type way."

Penelope smiled, feeling confident and sexy at his declaration and feeling filled with laughter at his also humble need to clarify. He was the perfect blend of dominant and confident male, and the sexy shy nerd.

"You can make me mine all you'd like, right now, tiger."

Harry flipped her onto her back and leaned over her like the large cat that she had named him for. He looked at her with a predatory gaze that made her shiver with want and delight. He attacked her neck.

"A lion."

"What?" She panted nearly delirious. Her fingers ran down his back much more harshly than she would have realized.

Harry pulled back and smirked down at his dazzled lover.

"I consider myself a lion, really."

"Oh."

He pounced.

~[HeArt History]~

Harry hugged Penelope goodbye and held her as though he would never see her again. Penelope hugged back just as hard, simply enjoying his presence. He stepped back and looked at Morgan, who had driven the two to the airport.

"Take care of her for me, will you?" There seemed to be an underlying tone there.

Morgan reached out and shook Harry's hand. In the two months since the 'Malfoy Incident' as Morgan had come to refer to it as, the two had come to an understanding if not mutual like. It was hard not to love the art enthusiast.

"You know I will. You better watch out Degas. Who knows, you might come home to find Baby Girl, here, with me."

Harry smirked at him before turning and picking up his carry on. As he headed through security Harry waved back to him with a sarcastic look.

"I doubt it Black Thunder- you know what they say- thunder always come before." He shifted his hair up with his free hand and Morgan spotted a thunderbolt shaped scar on his forehead, "Lightning."

Morgan let out a laugh of surprise steered Garcia away from the meeting area. He still had no more information about Harry other than what he had seen from Harry's file. He was sure that this wasn't a routine business trip, but with nothing to back it up, he simply couldn't do anything more than sit and watch and wait.

~[HeArt History]~

"You bastard!"

There was a sound of a crash followed by two more and a heavy thump. The door burst open and a man with shockingly red hair ran out of the modest London suburban house. In his wake came hairbrushes, pots, pans, and other miscellaneous items. Harry barely had time to think before the man roughed bumped into him, not looking, before continuing to run.

Harry looked between the house and the man before shrugging and striding up the path, up the stairs, and through the still open chestnut door. He followed the sound of weeping to a modest yellow kitchen where Hermione had her head down on the table and a hand feebly stretched out and clutching a white kitchen mug.

"Mione?" She started at once and raised herself instantly ready and poised to throw the mug at her offender.

"Oh, Harry." Her eyes welled again and Harry found himself with an armful of Granger. She sobbed heavily into Harry's hooded jacket and Harry let himself be used as her own personal, breathing teddy bear.

"Who?" Harry wasn't asking who the man was, even though it had been years Harry could still recognize Ron.

"Who not." Hermione wheezed out before her sobbing slowed. Harry released her back to her seat and went to her cabinets for a second mug. Having found one he deftly put himself to work fixing tea whilst giving Hermione the decency to compose herself.

"Lavender Brown, Parvati Patil, Delores Phennelbomb, Victorcenia Shoener." Hermione said finally as Harry replenished her mug with his and then fixed himself a cup as well. "And, so many more. I suppose I have too many illegitimate step-children to count."

Harry winced. He had not been a good friend to this woman. He should have been here and made contact with her before now.

"I suppose you will be getting a divorce?"

Hermione scowled, "We already have one. Harry, Ron came back because his latest girl kicked him out, and I'm 'always good for something'."

Harry burned with anger at his friend's callousness. Ron wasn't a bad man, truly. That being said, you can be a good man, but a bad lover.

"Where are the children?"

An empty vase on located above the refrigerator shattered.

"There is a custody battle going on."

Harry's face darkened. "But you're the blood mother- the courts almost always side with them."

"I'm a muggleborn, Harry." Hermione said in a painfully soft whisper. "And, while the laws have changed, for the better, life has definitely gotten better. Those laws will most likely never change." She paused and collected herself. "At this point I get to keep Rose. Hugo, though, being the first-born male, will stay with Ron. And," her eyes filled with tears, "if I keep fighting, they will take Rose as well."

Harry's heart stopped. "I'll pound them. I'll-"

"No!" The desperation in Hermione's voice was horrible. "These laws have stood the test of time, Harry. I'm not one to give up, never. Especially not my son, however I would rather fight this battle when I have a chance to win, not a chance to lose everything."

"But, Hermione."

"No, Harry."

"You're being ridiculous. The Hermione Granger I know would never go done without a fight!"

"I'm not going down." Her voice was gentle and Harry felt a hand on his arm pulling him down, he didn't remember standing. "I'm waiting and biding my time. I will win, but I would be stupid to fight now while emotions and tensions are high. To get both of my children I will need time and strategy."

Harry's heart broke at the longing and desperation in Hermione's voice. There was also, however, a hint of steel that he could not deny. His temper cooled slightly, though his veins still felt the heat of molten lava. She would win, she was Hermione Granger, and she would do it in a way that would keep her hands clean and people on her side. He deflated. Brazenly jumping into situations never solved anything.

"You were always the cooler head out of all of us, Hermione."

Hermione squeezed his arm and smiled. "Someone had to keep you both from getting killed, or worse expelled." They said the last word at the same time and shared a deep and meaningful smile. Yes, she would make this all happen.

Hermione flicked her hand and the pieces of the ruined vase came back together on the kitchen counter. "Now, I doubt that you were just dropping by, not with your new life, anyway." There was an undertone of bitterness, and Harry knew he deserved it.

"I need your help." Hermione nodded and encouraged him on. Good old Hermione, always willing to lend a hand, even though Harry had been less than a friend in these past years.

"The death eaters are back. You know?" Harry's voice rose in question as Hermione nodded, plainly unsurprised at his declaration. "Well, Malfoy paid me a visit last night, scared my girlfriend and her friends half to death. He came to warn me."

Harry proceeded to relay the story frame by frame. As a follow up he then told her about his life now, his job, and finally and most importantly, Penelope.

"You love her very much." Hermione had understatement down to an art.

"I do."

"And, so what do you want me to do?"

Harry frowned. "I had one idea, when I was coming here, but now I have a new one. Wrap up your affairs here. Three days. By then I will have for you a new job, a new home, and everything you and, and Rose," he bit his tongue to stop himself from saying 'Hugo', "I need you to be there to protect her. She's my reason of living-"

"And I have no reason to live here any longer." Hermione stated flatly. Harry's face immediately lit red.

"That isn't what I was going to say!" She laughed, bitterly, but it was still a laugh.

"I know you weren't, however the truth is the truth. Three days is a tough call, however, I can make it happen. Magic is, well, magical after all."

Harry's face split into a grin and it only grew wider when Rose came scrambling through the kitchen door. "Mum, I found a cat that I love, and Uncle said I should ask you. Please!" Rose caught sight of the stranger in her kitchen.

"Hello." Harry stood up from his seat and crouched in front of the small six year old.

"Hello." She said formally, obviously stiff and uncomfortable from the proximity.

"I'm Harry. Do you know who I am."

Rose's eyes shifted to Hermione and back.

"Potter." Harry glanced up and into the eyes of Blaise Zambini, an older Blaise, but his face was quite unforgettable.

Harry stood sharply, startling Rose, though he took no notice. The lines on his face were hard. "Uncle, I presume?"

Blaise placed his hands firmly on Rose's shoulders and Harry watched as the tense girl visibly relaxed.

"Yes." Blaise replied simply and Harry paused. The room was still and stern. Harry struggled with many emotions, most he would rather choose not to name. He came to a conclusion.

"Okay." The tension in the air broke slightly and Blaise lifted a hand from the girl's shoulder and extended it to Harry, much like Malfoy had done in their first year. Harry shook it and Hermione clasped them both around the shoulders as she came up to them.

"Good, now that I'm sure that a magical apocalypse won't happen in my house. Why don't you tell me about this cat, Rose?" When the subject of 'cat' was brought up, Rose's eyes lit with unbridled passion and her mouth opened with an unending spew of details about the cat.

Hermione led the three into the living room, raising an arm, which enacted the room to fix itself from the earlier confrontation. Harry and Blaise stood in the foyer and watched Hermione with her daughter.

"How long had Ron been mistreating her?" Harry asked quietly.

Blaise sighed, "Potter." He paused before continuing, "Not everyone handled the war in the same way. You got married, divorced, and then left. Hermione and Weasley got married. Hermione rationalized and sought counseling, like she should have." He paused again, trying to find the words, "Ron, after a few years, sought refuge in the bottom of a bottle. He righted himself a few times, but kept falling off the wagon."

"And where do you come in?"

"Not as a sexual or romantic partner, I assure you Potter. My intentions towards Hermione's virtues are good." Blaise's dark features were a blend of seriousness and callous humor. "He only hit her once, I made sure of that. But that time. I found her outside of the phone booth entrance of the Ministry, trying to decide whether or not to file for divorce and charges. Her eye was swollen and her arm was sprained very badly."

Blaise's eyes were clouded over as if watching the past unfold before him all over again, "I suppose Weasley isn't a bad man- though if you ask me he deserves to have his balls severed and fed to him, but when he has the drink in him, he turns into someone that is dangerous." He rubbed an arm as if remembering a painful experience. "I took her home, then. Not that I didn't want her to press charges, but things work differently here in the magical world. She needed to seem steady and strong, not like a battered wife. I provide legal advice, you see."

"A very Slytherin profession." Harry noted trying to sound ambivalent to the story.

Blaise snorted, "I would pick a Slytherin lawyer over a Gryffindor one, any day. Just ask Hermione, she could have had a Gryffindor lawyer, Dean Thomas is an associate of mine. But she wanted the best, and the best is me." There was a pause. "I can't help her, if that's what you're asking. At least, not right now. There are too many forces pushing and pulling, she needs to lay low."

"I'm providing that for her." As her attorney, Harry supposed that he should inform Blaise, "I've offered her refuge with me, in America, at least for a time."

Blaise nodded, "Good. Getting out of the spotlight and snake nest is exactly what she needs to keep her status. Her status is what will get her both of her children- it cannot become slandered."

Harry nodded and watched Hermione hold the hand of her daughter. There was sadness there, yes, but also an undying light of happiness. For Hermione, this would end well. Harry heard a yell of happiness come from Rose and smiled, Hermione had conceded to the cat.

~[HeArt History]~

"Team, I would like you to meet Miss Hermione Granger. She is my personal assistant, she came highly recommended, and I hope that you will all welcome her and treat her with the respect she deserves." Strauss stared down her top BAU unit and Hermione waved at them hesitantly.

Her eyes scanned them and made brief notes about her two protection subjects. Penelope was as beautiful as Harry had described her, and Morgan. Her eyes rested on him a fraction of a second too long and he smiled at her coyly, he was beautiful in every respect of the word. In a month and a half Harry would leave to take care of business back in the UK. Task for now was to worm herself into the lives of these agents, and then once Harry departs, her real work would begin.

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	7. Iron Nails

**I have come to the HeArt History portion of my writing rounds. I am nearly done with Greek Death and am toying with an idea for a sequel that struck me last night. I have a few one shots that are coming out, as well as a new HP/CM story that might be a Ginny/Morgan adventure. My Harry Potter/Merlin story is going splendidly well, however I am waiting for more reviews before I post again. I really enjoyed writing this chapter, it is a completely different pace than anything I have written for this story so far. It's a little short, however I needed to set the scene for future chapters and didn't want to downplay the importance of this chapter by combining it with more information. That being all said, please enjoy!**

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The front door opened and closed and Hermione popped her head out of the kitchen to see Harry shaking off his umbrella and toeing off his shoes. She had been in the States now for a month and so far, it had been an interesting journey.

Being Strauss' assistant meant that she spent her time reviewing the paperwork submitted by the various BAU teams. That being said she barely saw any of them except for when one of the team was grabbing lunch from the canteen. They were a hard group to break into. The team was friendly, however it was obvious that they weren't there to make friends, and further she was to be kept at arm's length due to her position with Strauss.

"Harry." Hermione called pleasantly as fixed a nice mixed green salad. Deftly she began to slice up some hard-boiled eggs and put them into the bowl with the greens. Carrots, peppers, soy bacon bits, and strawberries followed. She placed the bowl on the table and by that time Harry had made him self at home in the kitchen and started to search for various plates and silverware.

Absently directing Harry to where the large dinner plates were being housed Hermione went over to her glass-top stove and grabbed the frying panhandle. Tilting the pan, Hermione used a spoon to pour the simmering sauce over the vegetables that were already present in the pan. After a few scoops she removed the veggies with a pair of tongs and put in the pieces of chicken breast that she had already grilled.

Harry was over to celebrate a very special evening, Rose's birthday. Rose, currently, was out with Blaise and Hermione couldn't be more thankful of her friends at that moment. The house that Harry had found was beautiful. It was a small row house in Georgetown that was painted a cheery yellow with white trim. The inside was expertly manicured with hard wood floors spreading throughout the home excepting the kitchen and bathrooms.

Those rooms were tiled in marbled and it also reflected on the surfacing. She had done most of the work by hand, working tirelessly and with the abuse of a timeturner. The kitchen itself she had painted a tasteful and elegant dark burgundy red, with white cabinetry. In some of the cabinet door she had installed a clear coloured frosted glass. The colours had been intentional throughout the house. Red enhanced metablism and made a person hungry, hence a red kitchen.

Rose's room was a soft blue colour that was on the scale of slate. Hermione had chosen the shade as an attempt to ground her young daughter who was often a tizzy with endless energy. Blue was calm and soothing, stable- reliable. Hermione wanted Rose to feel strong and safe in her room, a place where her child could go to when the realities of the world and the rapid upheaval of her life became too much.

Hermione's room was the burnt orange of sunset. It was ironic that her bedroom was now orange, when some shades of that colour reminded her of Ron. However this orange was not bright and overwhelming like the orange of the Chudley Cannons. It was rather the shade of a falling leaf that you would find in autumn. It represented change and vitality. In a way she was reclaiming a colour that she had lost when she met Ron.

Her study was a neutral, almost olive shade of green that she adored, and that room had become her personal sanctuary. She had painted the molding and trims white as a sign of youthfulness and light. The walls were not lined with the heavy bookshelves that one would expect from Hermione Granger, but with light and airy white shelving that was carved with both the straight lines of determination and the soft flowing curves of nature.

Her goal of the house was to create their sanctuary. A place where every room felt like a breath of fresh air and a new beginning, because that was what this move had provided: a new beginning for Hermione, and a new life free from Weasley domination for Rose. The house, overall had a very minimalistic and Zen approach to it, because as Hermione put it, 'less clutter in life, the less clutter in your mind'.

After a few minutes of pan searing the chicken in the vegetable and spice sauce, Hermione plated first pasta and then a chicken breast and the mixed veggies on the four plates. It was just in time too because the front door opened again and the pitter of small feet preempted Rose into the kitchen.

She slowed upon entry and sidled past Harry, as she was still weary of this strange man, before turning and burying her face in her mother's pants. "I had the best day." Her daughter squealed in delight. Hermione nodded and listened as her daughter described her trip to the National Zoo, because, 'Mum, seriously, they have pandas'. With the ease of mother practice, Hermione scooted her child up onto a stool in front of the sink and washed the excited child's hands.

Blaise and Harry squared off with each other before Harry stood and offered a handshake to the man. The two men finished setting the table as Hermione sat Rose down and the four held hands before beginning to eat.

"I would like to say thank you." Hermione began, "I would like to say it to both you Harry," she looked at him, "and you Blaise" she looked at the other man. "Without the two of you, this amazing meal and this wonderful celebration would not be happening. I will never forget your kindness." Hermione finished and all four released hands and tucked in. It was not a religious 'Grace', as none of them were religious. However, Hermione made it an effort to start the meal off with a reflection about the good things that have occurred in her and Rose's life.

The house had only Hermione's room, Rose's room, and a study. She had been very specific with her instructions to Harry: no extra bedroom. It wasn't that she didn't love her son, and it wasn't as though she didn't want him there with her. It was just that, she couldn't bear to walk by an empty bedroom everyday knowing that it was for a person that might never make it there. The heartbreak would be too much.

Harry spread a balsamic vinaigrette over his salad and tucked into the greens with gusto. It felt night, having family here and not having to take every meal alone. The team was away working on a case, and Penelope had gone with them.

He had yet to inform his lover that he and Hermione knew each other, and he planned to keep it that way, at least for a while. Hermione was here not only to play an important part in this battle, but also to form a new life. He was just happy that Strauss had been looking for a replacement personal assistant after the last one quit due to the heavy strains of the job. Hermione, of course, had come highly recommended as a former member of the iconic and U.S. revered Scotland Yard.

When supper had finished the pseudo family formed the by now familiar line of scraping the scraps into bins for the compost that Hermione had in her small back yard, washing the dish with soap in one side of her sink and rinsing it in the other, drying the plate, and then finally the last station put it away. Harry, per usual washed the dishes because for the life of him, he couldn't figure out where things went in this place, and Hermione was that particular. Rose scraped off the food from the plates like a pro and Zabini dried the plates. Hermione, ever the task manager and slight anal retentive, put away her items to satisfactory.

The task finished, the foursome went out into the living room and sunk into the soft tan fabric couches. Harry enjoyed putting his feet up on the extended set at the end of the L shaped couch unit. He and Zabini usually fought for the position, however the man had gone upstairs to retrieve his presents for Rose. Harry had already deposited his section of the bounty in front of the large fireplace.

Rose bounced up and down happily next to her mother on the couch and Harry spied the kitten, so named Merlin, slinking around the corner of the furniture to check out the activity. Instantly Harry swooped up the cat and held up the kitten in front of his face. Harry's green eyes met the bright blue eyes of the fluffy grey and white cat. Merlin took first one swipe and then another at Harry's nose and the man chuckled before placing the kitten down on his chest and petting the small creature.

He was happy, content even and it helped Harry to forget that in two weeks he would be leaving to fight in the UK. Just two weeks until he might never see Penelope again. The soft purring of Merlin helped sooth Harry's rising nerves. That was coming up, but right now he was here with family, and they would enjoy themselves.

Zabini returned and Rose set herself to the task of tearing apart the wrapping that surrounded each present. Harry had gotten her a small soccer net and a ball to practice with. Hermione had signed Rose up for the local youth soccer team and she would begin shortly. He also presented the girl with several different cat toys and event a princess dress up set. All very muggle, but if they were to keep under the radar, they had to be careful with what they let Rose have. Children weren't always careful.

Zabini had tried his best to go muggle on the presents and faired decently. Rose now had a Tinkerbelle costume, complete with wings as well as few children's movies. He couldn't, however, go all muggle and presented the girl with a box. The box, he explained, would when opened show the sky on her ceiling. The sky would shift and change as the day, night, and season did. A smaller, and more portable version of the enchantment that existed on the ceiling of the Great Hall at Hogwarts.

From her mother Rose received clothes (not very much appreciated) and various books. Rose had taken after her mother with a love of reading and Hermione intended to foster it. Her other gift to her daughter was simple: an entire day the next day with her mother. No interruptions, no work. Hermione had taken the day off, and had called Rose's school to let them know that her daughter would not be showing up. The day was theirs to explore.

When the evening wrapped up Harry and Hermione bid Blaise goodnight as he stepped into the fireplace and then the two sat down for a drink of wine and a small cheese platter. Rose, worn out from her 'Day of Adventure' with Zabini, had fallen instantly asleep when Hermione had put her to bed around 7:30.

The two relaxed together in a way that they hadn't in some time. The war had been difficult, and then Harry had left. Hermione had become a wife and soon after that a mother. Even after all of these years, the two didn't need to talk, they just sat and enjoyed one another's presence. They would sometimes do this when they were on the run, after Ron had left. Sometimes they would dance.

Harry, without thinking, switched on Hermione's radio and soft instrumental music wafted through he room. Placing his drink down on the wooden holder on top of her cushioned ottoman, Harry stood and offered a hand to Hermione.

He didn't say anything and she stayed silent as well. Without hesitation, Hermione put her glass down and joined Harry in the middle of the living room. They held each other as they swayed, and if anyone had been looking they would have sworn it was a lovers embrace. They were not, however, lovers. Maybe, if they had acted upon their crushes a long time ago, they could have- but now? Now they had chosen their paths and a romance would have never worked.

Harry had Penelope, and he loved the woman more than he could ever express. Hermione was placid and calm like water. She could pretend to feel excessive pain at Ron and about their relationship, however to tell the truth she was relieved. They had never been a good match, if only they had stopped being so stubborn and seen. They were too different. Hermione was all head, however no one could call her passionless. Ron was all passion with very little thought. He wasn't a simpleton by any means, however he chose not to think before his actions.

She couldn't find it within herself to hate Ron, either. He was lost. Angry. Misguided. Alone. If she were a stronger person she would go and help him with his issues, help him become a better man. However, Hermione was not that strong, not right now at least. Right now, she was content to stay here in this house that Harry had found for her and that Hermione had made for herself. She was enjoying the independence of her womanhood and the growing and bonding relationship she was developing with Rose.

The two age old friends continued to hold each other, their bodies pressed firmly together and Hermione's face buried into his neck and shoulder. Yes, they once had the potential to be lovers, and they both knew that. In a way, they almost were. Their relationship stood undamaged even after all these years. Hermione still knew what Harry was thinking, and he in return could always figure out what she was feeling. It was a bond that had been forged from a young age.

Hogwarts had been the forge that allowed them to become pliable to change and life. Their life on the run had driven a wedge between them and the world, creating a divot where the right pressure could sever them. When Ron had left them, it was the hammer that broke them off and way like a piece of metal being driven off of an iron rod that had been heated and hit with the intention of creation. Their relationship solidified then as to what it would always be, an unbreakable bond. They were strong and steady, as purposeful as the strike of the tool that makes the head of a nail. They then dropped into a cool bucket of water, to harden and make them able to persevere. Through their troubles and triumphs, Hermione and Harry became the nail that would seal Voldemort's coffin.

And, now they would do it again- together. Metals like gold and silver were excitable and mold-able, they wanted to work in ways that were flexible and yielding- such agreeable metals as they are. Iron, however. Iron was hard and steady. There's a reason why the Iron Age was so important to history, and there's a reason why important things are still made with Iron. Iron was the metal that helped forge entire nations. Harry and Hermione were Iron. Iron Nails.

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**I hope that you all enjoyed this chapter. It was truly a joy for me to write and I hope that it was the same for you to read. No action here, yet, however it is coming soon. Very, very soon.**

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